Broken Whispers
by Sar'Kalu
Summary: When Harry J. Potter is kidnapped after his defeat of the Dark Lord, the last thing people expected was for him to turn up ten years later as the son of Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange. Expected to become the second in command of the Dark Lord when he arises, young Jacobo will defy expectations to become a far greater threat to the light.
1. Prologue: All Hallows Eve

It was All Hallows eve when He arrived. The tiny cottage in Godrics Hollow was perhaps one of the best defended houses in the world. Sadly, every defense has a weak point. This houses weak spot, was misplaced trust. A trust that would define the world. The future. The cottage belonged to James Charlus Potter and his wife Lilian Jane Potter née Evans. The young couple were twenty one years of age with three children. Some how the usual Potter legacy of single children had been broken. Lillian had borne three children. Triplets. The eldest was the fraternal triplet of his identical twin brothers, his name was Harold James. His brothers, identical twins and both born on the cusp of the new day were named Evan Andrew and Charlus Godric. It was All Hallows Eve when He came. It was All Hallows Eve when it all changed.

It was All Hallows Eve when the Bad Man glided into the nursery. And young Harry James appeared to be waiting for him. For young Harry thought it was his Mummy coming to give him a cuddle before she went to bed, as she was wont to do. Harry was sad when it wasn't her, the Bad Man, had young Harry knownMoore words, would have been classified as creepy. He wasn't sure who the man was, but he didn't think the Bad Man was like his Daddy; his Daddy was good and funny. Unlike Daddy, there was something different about the Bad Man. The Bad Man was pale white, his eyes glowing red, his aura was truly evil. Harry watched Carlos' godfather Wormy behind the Bad man. Wormy was a bad man too. Harry knew that. Wormy wasn't supposed to bring new people into the house while Mummy and Daddy were out. Harry may have been only one and a half, but he knew that well enough. Wormy was talking to the Pale Man, his voice scared and he stuttered a lot. Wormy called the Bad Man 'Master'. It was All Hallows Eve when they were betrayed.

It was All Hallows Eve when Harry's brothers awoke, the hissed conversation wakening them. They had hazel eyes, they were true identical twins, despite them all being born at the same time. Evan and Carlos looked at the Bad Man and felt afraid. They didn't feel the curiosity that their brother felt. Carlos was happy to see his godfather. Wormy made funny squeaky noises whenever Carlos grabbed his nose. Evan was happy because his brother was. The identical twins were less inclined to wonder at the world unlike their brother was. Harry was confused. Where was Mummy and Daddy? It was All Hallows Eve when the choice was made.

"The green eyes, that's the one. The others are weak. They will not be any threat to me." The Bad Man hissed, his scarlet eyes filled with blood lust. He found his perversion swelling his manhood. He would take his most favored servant in the most carnal and violent way possible, simply because he could. The Bad Man grinned viciously. It was on All Hallows Eve when the perverted and sadistic reveled in blood and murder.

"Yes Master," Wormy said subserviently. He felt a rush of lust for the powerful and handsome man next to her. Wormtail knew his friends would have accepted his homosexuality, but he himself didn't. And despite his never mentioning it, Wormtail couldn't help but feel betrayed by the man who he loved completely. James Potter would pay for his oversight. Any one could see that he Wormtail was a better partner for James then that mud blood bitch. Wormtail knew the boy was his Lords only nemesis. Tonight would be double payback. The death of James first born, who should have been his, not Sirius' godson. And secondly, the eventual death of the light. Wormtail would own and possess James Potter like he always should have. It was on All Hallows Eve when the betrayer made his move.

It was on All Hallows Eve when the Bad Man raised a thin piece of wood. Young Harry, in his innocent mind, thought it looked like twig. Mummy and Daddy had one of those. They made pretty lights come from it. Harry cooed at the thought of more pretty lights. Surely the Red Eyed man couldn't be Bad if he made pretty lights? The Bad Man paused, the child was gurgling happily, his green eyes alight with anticipation. The child was begging for the end. He really liked it when people begged him for the end, even if it was a one year old boy. Snarling the killing curse, he felt a moments satisfaction as it rushed to the boy. And then, it rebounded. Horrified he watched as it shot back towards him, like a boomerang returns to its caster. Hitting him in the chest, he felt a moments admiration for the power that the boy weilded before he was cast out of his own body. It was on All Hallows Eve when a life was taken.

It was on All Hallows Eve when Wormy watched in dismay as the body of his Master crumbled into dust before his eyes. Turning his eyes to the boy he felt like his life was on its axis. He could kill the boy now, but that would be counter productive. After all, the child had just killed the Dark Lord. It might be worthwhile doing something else with the child. Making up his mind swiftly, Wormy snatched the child up, ignoring the blood pouring from the cut on the child's forehead. Wormtail made sure to snatch up the dust of the Dark Lord's body, he wasn't certain why, but he felt like it was a good idea. Maybe those who were more powerful and clever than he, couldsod something with it. He then dashed from the crumbling house. Once he was clear of the fidelius charm and the wards, Wormtail apparated away, leaving behind the dead body of his Master and two screaming children. It was on All Hallows Eve when a young family was torn asunder.

XXX

It was on All Hallows Eve when Lily and James finally came home to a ruin, their children unconscious under feet of rubble. The identical twins were incredibly lucky that the collapsing wall fell against the opposite wall, thus protecting the twins from their untimely demise. It took the parents and their friends three days to finally accept that their eldest and nonidentical triplet had perished in the raw magical explosion. It nearly destroyed the young family. Nearly mad with grief Lily and James threw their energy into their remaining children. It was on All Hallows Eve when the light won a respite and a young couple danced with insanity


	2. Chapter 1: The Dark Grows

Wormtail other wise know as Peter Pettigrew was seated on a cracked leather couch. He was in one of the Death Eater safe houses. He had made good of his escape after the defeat of the Dark Lord. Now he was waiting for his accomplices to arrive. They would help him, Peter was certain of it. The boy child, Harold James Potter was lying unconscious on the floor in front of him. Peter loathed the child. The boy was only one and a half and he'd killed Peters master. Already Peters fellows were being rounded up and incarcerated. His name was one of those on the list. Peter hated the idea of going to Azkaban. Prison definitely wouldn't suit him. Despite people arguing otherwise, Peter wasn't stupid, he knew the child would be extremely powerful. That much was already clear. If the Dark Lords death was anything to go by.

Peter scowled. The child had the same tousled black hair that James had. It was only when the boy opened his eyes that the boys mother became apparent. Lily fucking Evans. Peter sneered. The mud blood bitch was the center of Peter's problems. Or so he convinced himself. Jealousy is a particularly ugly affliction. One that had soured Peter's friendship with his love interest and his best friends.

Peter was not a very clever man, and while not stupid, he was even less clever when it came to things that were obvious. And right now he had an issue that he had a kidnapped child in front of him. Said child was so obviously a Potter that Peter was at a loss of what to do. He could hardly dump the boy just anywhere. It would be obvious to any witch or wizard who the child belonged to, butLon the other hand, Peter wasn't certain he wanted to get rid of the kid either. Powerful or not, the kid had defeated the Dark Lord with only a blood encrusted cut on his forehead. Peter sat on the couch his face pensive, contemplating thefuture of the child in front of him.

A hammering on the door interrupted his thoughts. Pushing himself up, Peter crossed his way to the front door. Opening it up slightly, Peter waited for the password before letting three fellow Death Eaters in. Throwing their hoods back revealed the insane features of Amycus and Alecto Carrow and Belatrix Lestrange. Lestrange was hauntingly beautiful, her eyes heavy lidded and sultry. Amicus Carrow was an ugly heavy set man who was thick of body, feature and mind. His sister Alecto wasn't any better, she was a slightly more feminine version of Amicus, although she was sharper of wit then her brother. Peter stood aside, leaving thigher ranking Death Eaters to stalk past him.

Stalking into the lounge room, Bellatrix was disgusted to note a Potter brat crashed out on the floor. She crossed the floor to the boy, and shoved the toe of her boot into his side. She ignored Peter's protest, her mind filled with rage at the death of her beloved Master and Lord. The babe woke up squalling in discomfort, his fear and exhaustion setting in. He was in a new place with a darkly beautiful woman standing over him. Harry wriggled away from the probing boot, his tiny body squirming over the filthy brown carpet. Bellatrix sneered at the squalling child in front of her. He was pathetic, his big green eye welling with tears and fear.

Useless, she thought irritably, absolutely useless. Whatever Peter had planned for the child, Bellatrix was certain it wouldn't work. A cough behind her had her spinning around, snarling angrily. Setting her eyes upon her husband Rudolphus Lestrange, she backed away from the boy child pouting. Rudolphus eyed his wife, his dark good looks sadistically amused. He and his wife were as bad as each other. They both pleasured in the art of torture and taking the lives of others. Neither were naive enough to think that the Dark Lord actually needed them, rather they had been happy enough simply to join in killing the mud bloods, blood traitors and muggle's. It had been good fun, he thought viciously.

Rudolphus' brother Rabastan stood behind his brother, quietly fingering his wand thinking happy thoughts regarding driving a lovely family, any family really, insane. Rabastan was completely different to his brother, while Rudolphus and he both enjoyed killing and torture, it was the way theywent about it that differed. Rudolphus preferred to just 'crucio' his victims to insanity. Rabastan thought that 'crucio' while effective wasas subtle as a bludgeoning hex. No, Rabastan loved to slowly break people. He started usually by loosening up their muscles with a torture curse, then he'd methodically break their bones then carve them up. The scent of blood was usual heavy in the air by that point, something that was a huge turn on for the lean man. Rabastan was pulled from his cruel desires at the sight of Wormtail sneaking into the room. Curious as to Peter's reasoning at bring the child with him, Rabastan shoved his perverted thoughts aside in favor for paying attention to the Rat.

Wormtail snuck around the Carrows and Lestranges, he was completely outranked and he was sure that the five other Death Eaters would blame him for the Dark Lord's demise. Nonetheless Wormtail needed to make sure the little brat in front of them was okay. He might be useful later on. After all, power, no matter how old, and the Potter brat was exactly that: powerful.

"Wormtail, why is this filthy blood traitor here smearing his worthlessness on the carpet, he's getting it dirty." Rudolphus snarled, his voice coldly angry. Rabastan cocked his head to the side, his brother was eager for the screams of someone weaker than he was. Rabastan could understand that. "And what happened when you went with the Dark Lord to kill the brat? Did you betray our master? Is this brat the one who was marked? Is this the child that killed our Master?"

Lestrange was dangerously approaching the cringing rat now, his wand extended and a maniacal gleam in his eye. Bellatrix was behind him, her eyes alight with perversion and sadism, one hand exploring her own body as she watched her husband stalk the cringing rat man. Rudolphus had never looked more sexy to her than right now. The Carrow siblings wrinkled their noses at the cruel perversion that permeated the Lestrange couple, it was sick, even for them. Rabastan looked bored.

"Uh," Wormtail hiccuped slightily, his throat thick with fear. "The Dark Lord cast the killing curse on the child. It rebounded. I have no idea how." Rudolphus stopped, dumbfounded, his wand lowering. Bellatrix and the Carrow's froze.

Rudolphus cocked his head, his eyes narrowed. "Do not lie to me." He snapped coldly. "_Legimens_!" Lestrange ripped his way through Wormtail's memories, fishing out the information he wanted. He watched the memory in disbelief. A mere child had defeated his Lord! Maybe the Lord Voldemort wasn't as powerful as he'd claimed? Disregarding such an idea for the moment, Lestrange turned to his wife and compatriots, "The rat tells the truth."

The reactions from the Death Eaters was varying. Shock, surprise, anger, fear, disgust and betrayal. Six sets of eyes turned to look at the now quiet child that lay on the floor. Thoughts warred with never before questioned loyalty. As all bar one were Slytherins, they had their own brand of loyalty. A loyalty to power, ambition and themselves and their families. Not anyone else. And here was a child who had killed who they thought was the most powerful of wizards. They weren't sure what to think, and so they shoved it aside for the moment. It would be best to review such revelations privately later. For now they needed to think about what to do with the child in front of them.

"What do we do with him?" Amicus Carrow asked gruffly, gesturing at the baby on the floor. Rudolphus wrinkled his nose in disgust, he wasn't entirely certain but he'd prefer to kill the brat. Carrow rolled his eyes in agreement. Both men hated babies. Rabastan thought more along the lines of Peter, the younger men were more than willing to see if the child was as powerful as was indicated by Wormtail's thoughts.

"We keep him." Rabastan interjected before his sister in law could open her mouth. Bellatrix was clever, but sometimes her desire for revenge left her without many options. This kind of situation needed careful planning and a well thought out plan at that. And while Rabastan had been a Ravenclaw, he was no less cunning or ambitious than his brother. And Rabastan's ambition was currently running along with presenting the child as the heir of the Dark Lord, much like Peter's had been.

"Why?" Alecto asked bored, "He'll need an education in eleven years. And he looks like a Potter. It's too obvious." Alecto shrugged her brown eyes heavily lidded as she tried to not fall asleep. Neither Carrow sibling was particularly bright. They didn't like thinking very much and were more brawn than brain. They were useful simply because they were trigger happy enough to run into a situation without looking. In other words, they were cannon fodder.

"Blood adoption." Rabastan said calmly. "We can mix all our blood together, make him ours. No one will know any better." Rabastan knew more about dark magicks than most. He had poured over most of the restricted section books and was more than happy to implement his new found knowledge in the most perverse way possible. How ever he could manage it. "Also, it will make him the purest of bloods, heir of Black, Lestrange and Carrow lines. Who better to take after the Dark Lord?" Rabastan's face twisted into a parody of a smile, his eyes shining with cruelty.

"Do you even know how to do a blood adoption?" Rudolphus asked his brother, he moved to his wife, wrapping his arm around her. Rudolphus eyed the child that had conked out again, his tiny chest rising and falling evenly. The Carrow's were watching the proceedings with something akin to fascination.

Rabastan nodded slightly, pulling out a shrunken notebook from his pocket. He never went without it, it contained every spell he had found, invented or heard. It was priceless and invaluable to the young Death Eater. "I do."

The Lestrange couple shrugged, Bellatrix leaning into her husband. She felt that the entire ideal was utterly stupid, but then Rabastan's plans usually went to plan. He was lucky like that. Rudolphus was thinking much along the same lines, he was utterly disinterested in the entire thing. But if it made his brother happy, he would let him do it. The Carrow's shrugged and left the room, followed shortly by the Lestrange couple. Rabastan pinned Peter down with a sharp glare. Indicating the rat to be seated, Rabastan opened his notebook and a quill and ink. Conjuring a piece of parchment, Rabastan started making notations on the ceremony that would be needed along with what had to be said.

Peter sat awkwardly on the couch watching Rabastan work. The young Death Eater was intent on his work, a slight frown creasing his brow as he worked. It was obvious that the young man had been sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason. Peter flinched when the young man thumped Peter for not paying attention. Rastaban was thin almost to the extreme, with pointed features. He had dark eyes that looked almost black and brown hair. He was altogether good looking. It was the look in his eyes that detracted from his looks however. They were coldly calculating and without mercy or pity. He was terrifying.

"Listen up Rat," Rabastan snarled, his dark eyes cold and serious. "You will go fetch everything on this list." Rabastan fixed Wormtail with a glare. "You fuck this up, Rat, and I'll have you head."

Peter nodded violently, his watery blue eyes wide. Peter scurried out of the house, his sweaty hands clutching the parchment with a death grip. Rabastan continued to work upon the ceremony. He needed to be completely accurate. First on the agenda he needed to strip the boy of his previous blood lines, that in it self was easy enough. He just had to tweak the disownment ceremony. Then he had to tweak the adoption magicks, binding them to the boys soul. If he did this right he would be able to make the boy incredibly powerful and with a inclination to dark magic. Rabastan fixed a demonic grin upon his face. This would be easier than stealing candy from a baby. Although, he thought nastily, the idea of candy pales in comparison to stealing an heir from a light bloodline. Rabastan cackled evilly.

XXX

Peter returned with his pockets stuffed with everything he'd been sent out to collect. His money bag was considerably emptier, much like his Gringotts account. Peter slunk over to the thin Death Eater who was sprawled on the couch, his wand idly pointed at the screaming green eyed baby on the floor. Harry was, for his part, in absolute agony. His mind was slowly departing from the sane world as Rabastan focused the cruciatis curse upon him again and again. Never for long, after all the baby's cries were piercing and annoying, but long enough to give the child an idea of what to expect during his life. Rabastan lifted his head, cooly noting the quivering form of the rat.

"You had better brought everything." Rabastan stated, his dark eyes cold and merciless. His thin fingers stroked his wand, he felt incredibly intoxicated after torturing the little brat. He loved hearing people scream. It was delightful.

Peter nodded jerkily, his eyes wide with horror at what he'd just seen. "Everything." Peter assured the sadistic man. Peter quickly albeit clumsily pulled every thing from his robes pockets. Including a jar of ash from the Dark Lord's remains. Peter had honestly forgotten about them, now he looked at them silently, wondering if he should mention their origin to the other Death Eaters. Deciding it was in his best interests, Peter did so.

Rabastan eyed the ashes calculatingly. It might be an idea to use the ashes instead of everyone's blood. Instead, Rabastan decided to go ahead with his original plan and simply add the ashes along with the blood. Standing, Rabastan exited the room after telling Peter to not move. Rabastan stalked into the kitchen, and forcibly took blood from the Carrow's. He then strode into his brother and sister-in-law's room, where he interrupted the pair of them screwing. Asking for a vial of blood each, he was granted the blood and he quickly left before his brother took out his sexual frustration via cursing him. Re-entering the lounge room, Rabastan started to brew the potion needed for the ceremony.

It took Rabastan three hours to brew the potion, he had been exceedingly careful in the potion prepping and brewing. With Peter watching all the while. It wouldn't do to make a misstep anwait was Peter's job to ensure that the potion looked as it was meant too. Once it was completed, Rabastan then drew a pentacle around the still sobbing child.

The boy had gone with out food for over twelve hours now, and he had been tortured within an inch of his sanity. Harry was in a bad way, but that's what had been required of the Death Eater. The ceremony of disownment was usually required to be done by the Head of the House, eh when it was some by an outside, clear abuse and misery had to experienced for it to work. Also, the blood magic required a child to be in a fragile state in magic, mind and body in such a state so that the potion amd blood could shred the boys appearance and magic and recreate it in the way Rabastan, as the controller of the ceremony, desired. It was very black, very dark magic.

Rabastan finished his pentacle and adorning it with candles, Rabastan then called in his fellow death eaters, Rabastan then led them in their lines until they were certain of their parts. Rabastan then started the ceremony, his normally harsh voice smoothing into a compelling tone. His eyes startlingly commanding in their viciousness.

"Καλώ τους μεγαλύτερες εξουσίες για να αφαιρέσει αυτό το αγόρι, ο Χάρολντ Τζέιμς Πότερ του τίτλου, τη μαγεία, το αίμα και το όνομα. Δεν έχει οικογένεια ή ευθυγράμμιση.(1)." Rabastan chanted, he sprinkled the blood and ashes in a circular fashion around the squirming, and now unnamed child before him. "Αυτό το παιδί είναι ανώνυμο και χωρίς ευθυγράμμιση. Ποιον θα διεκδικήσουν αυτό το αγόρι ως δικό τους, δίνοντάς του το όνομα, το αίμα, τη μαγεία και τον τίτλο?(2)"

Rabastan paused and fixed his dark eyes upon Bellatrix, she was next to speak.

"Ι, Belatrix Druella Black Lestrange, κάντε εγκρίνουμε αυτό το παιδί το όνομα, το αίμα, τη μαγεία και τον τίτλο. Αυτός είναι ο γιος μου, ο κληρονόμος μου, θα φροντίσει για τον ως τη δική μου. I αποδεχεστε αυτό το παιδί ως δικό μου(3)." Bellatrix said calmly.

Repeating what Bellatrix had just said, Rudolphus, Peter and the Carrow Siblings each adopted the child in magic, blood, name and title. He was now the solitary heir and son of each the Lestrange, Pettirgrew and Carrow lines. Rabastan stepped forward once again, he too, would be adopting the boy as his own, and in a fit of spite would be naming the child the Dark Lords own as well.

As each claiming was spoken, so the boy was daubed in the blood and ashes sprinkled around the pentangle. As each stroke of blood and ash marked his body, so the magic in the room heightened. Blackly dark and shining gold, the boys magic swirled and mixed with that of his adopters.

"Ι, Rabastan Rigel Lestrange, κάντε εγκρίνουμε αυτό το παιδί το όνομα, το αίμα, τη μαγεία και τον τίτλο. Αυτός είναι ο γιος μου, ο κληρονόμος μου, θα φροντίσει για τον ως τη δική μου. I αποδεχεστε αυτό το παιδί ως δικό μου(3)." Rabastan concluded his lines smoothly, before going on to say the other lines that were necessary, "Ι, Rabastan Rigel Lestrange, θα υιοθετήσουν αυτό το παιδί για λογαριασμό του που μου θέτουν Δάσκαλο και Κύριο, στο όνομα, το αίμα, τη μαγεία και τον τίτλο. Αυτός είναι ο γιος και κληρονόμος μου Master AMD Κυρίου, εξ ονόματος του Κυρίου και ο Δάσκαλος μου θα φροντίσει για το παιδί ως δικό μου. I αποδεχεστε αυτό το παιδί μου ως Master και κληρονόμος του Κυρίου, όπως και το μέλλον Κύριός μου και ο Δάσκαλος.(4)"

Rabastan watched as the light became piercingly white and gold. The spoken part was concluded for now, all that was necessary after this was the naming. The boy was docile in the middle of the pentangle, his eyes were lucid, although just barely, now would be the test, if he could survive the next part he would be a Lestrange, Pettigrew and Carrow in more than name, but also magic and blood. For that to be achieved the boys entire DNA would have to be rewritten, it would be an agonizing process, one that would not be able to be undone. He truly was no longer Harry James Potter.

After Rabastan concluded the spoken part of the ceremony he grabbed the potion which was dosed with the blood and ashes and forced the potion down the boys throat, careful not to step inside the pentacle himself. The magic brewed violently, sending out sparks and embers as it attacked the child in front of them. The boys screams didn't effect the men and women present, rather it aroused them in ways that they couldn't describe.

Rabastan had with his spoken part invoked Harry or rather the nameless child as the heir of everyone present, including the absent Dark Lord. He would be violently harmed when people found out, particularly when they found out that any magic they had would be sent to the child on their death. It had been a bold stroke, but the child was now the purest of bloods, as Rabastan not knowing his masters true name had invoked him as the pure blood he wasn't. And so the magic only took from the ashes the genetics of Salazar Slytherin.

Rabastan watched as the light died down, leaving a skinny baby huddled in the pentacle. He had long black hair, and the finest of features. He was abnormally tall for his age but was lankily so. His eyes were no longer green but rather the purest and clearest blue streaked and threaded with black. They was strangely compelling even for a child. Rabastan smirked happily at the sight, know all that was needed was the child's naming. A name that had caused a fair amount of argument, but Rabastan had been firm, the boy would be a Carrow Lestrange, Pettigrew would not feature at all in it. Peter, after all, was a very weak wizard and hardly worthy in Rabastan's eyes as the name of his Lord's heir.

Fixing the child with a piercing look, Rabastan opened his mouth, his voice tight with triumph. "Εκ μέρους εκείνων που υιοθέτησε αυτό το παιδί ως δικό τους, τον είχα ονομάσει το μαγικό, το αίμα και τον τίτλο, Jacobo Carrow Lestrange!" Rabastan cried out. His words binding and imprinting the name upon the boys magic with the name he had chosen.

Jacobo Lestrange would be in for a harsh life but he would be brought up in the purest of ideals. Well, pure from a Death Eater's perspective. Brought up to worship the Dark Lord for as long as the Lestrange's, Carrow's, and Pettirgrew could evade the law, Jacobo Carrow Lestrange would, in his parents eyes, become the Dark Lords right hand man, one who would bring them all great prestige and glory.

Their magic depleted, the higher ranking Death Eaters left the newly named Jacobo in Peters incapable hands. Rabastan waved a wand and cleaned the room before retiring for the night. The Death Eaters ignored Peter amd their new son in favor of their beds. Peter collapsed where he stood, his own magic severely depleted and he wasn't that strong magically to begin with. Peter fainted leaving a boy covered in blood crying on the floor. No one really cared when they found the boy half dead in the morning and Peter unconscious next to the boy. Rabastan did torture Peter awake simply on principal however, and Peter was named the boys keeper until he was old enough to be dealt with in a useful manner. Jacobo would grow up in a harsh, unloving environment, but he would thrive brilliantly in it.

XXX

The Hogwarts book of names lit up briefly shining brightly for a split second. Illuminating the circular Headmasters office. A name had been entered. Jacobo (last name unknown), 5th March 1980, pure blood. And another name was erased. Harold James Potter indicating him to be deceased. Fawkes, the Headmasters familiar crooned in sadness as his masters family, adopted or not, was shrunk by one member. While the dark gained yet another warrior, one who was far more dangerous than even Voldemort himself. Fawkes felt scared for the future of the light, something bad was coming. And that something would hit the Wizarding world with the force of a hurricane. Violent and unpredictable.

A/N: These are the literal translations of the paragraphs written in Greek. I use google translate so it's entirely possible that backwards translation may not makemad much sense.

1)I call upon the Greater Powers to strip this boy, Harold James Potter of title, magic, blood and name. He has no family or linage.

2)This Child is unnamed and without Linage. Whom would claim this boy as their own, giving him name, blood, magic and title?

3)I, Bellatrix Druella Black Lestrange/Rabastan Rigel Lestrange, do adopt this Child in name, blood, magic and title. He is my son, my heir, I will care for him as my own. I aknowledge this Child as my own

4)I, Rabastan Rigel Lestrange, do adopt this Child on behalf of the one I do call Master and Lord, in name, blood, magic and title. He is my Master amd Lord's son and heir, on behalf of my Lord and Master I will care for the boy as my own. I aknowledge this Child as my Master and Lord's Heir, and as my future Lord and Master

5)On behalf of those who adopted this Child as their own, I name him in magic, blood and title, Jacobo Carrow Lestrange


	3. Chapter 2: Training the Heir

Jacobo hit the ground running. His feet scrabbling against the polished hardwood floor of the Lestrange's manor. His blue/black eye wide with terror. The five year old had done something incredibly stupid and life threatening. He'd pranked Bellatrix. He thought he'd had his bases covered. He mentally reveiwed what had happened. Set the prank up: check. Hit the prank target: check. Blame the prank on Wormtail: check. Then what had gone wrong? Jacobo panted as his thoughts raced. The reason hit him the same moment the cruciatis curse did.

_Wormtail wouldn't have the guts to prank Bellatrix!_ He mentally screamed, while wordlessly crying out.

Jacobo screamed in agony, the insane cackling of his mother flowed over him. Jacobo hated her. He also hated Rudolphus, who was his father, and the Carrow's who were his Aunt and Uncle. Peter, also known as Wormtail, was alright, he could be bullied to give Jacobo what he wanted. Rabastan was terrifying but wouldn't hurt him without a reason. Of course, that didn't guarantee that the reason wouldn't be twisted. Rabastan was a great believer in logic and reason and no matter how twisted his justification and logic might be to a sane person, he would always tell you his thought pattern and would willingly explain any percieved infraction.

Unlike Bellatrix who loathed questions and questioning of her reasons. She hated Jacobo in particular, although for no particular justification that Jacobo could see, although he supposed she didn't really like the Carrow's or Pettigrew either. Rudolphus on the other hand was mostly indifferent to his son's existence, rather like the Carrow's, Jacobo idly thought. It was a mark of how much he spent under the cruciatis curse that he was able to maintain sane thought while screaming at the top of his lungs. Bellatrix voice broke into his pained thoughts.

"Have you had enough baby Jackie?" Bellatrix cooed sadistically, her dark eyes alight with bloodlust.

Jacobo knew without a doubt that Bellatrix was just waiting to kill him. She loathed him. A child was hard work, they needed to be trained, looked after and basically cared for. Very basically. And his training took away from time that she could be out torturing muggles. Jacobo thought he knew exactly why Bellatrix hated him. Although he wasn't entirely certain, but he thought it was something to do with him taking up too much of her time and her getting nothing in return. Bellatrix was a pure Slytherin, there should always be a beneficial trade. He also knew that was exactly why it was Rabastan that cared for him mostly. His Uncle was surprisingly caring, to a certain extent anyway, no one in the mansiosun sunshine and cuddles. It was Rabastan that had convinced Bellatrix and Rudolphus to keep him, and not sent him to an orphanage. Something that Jacobo was sincerely pleased by. Orphanages were for mud bloods and blood traitors alike. He, Jacobo, was one of the purest bloods. Or so Uncle Rabastan told him.

Jacobo lay on the hard wood floor, panting. His blue/black eyes were agonized, while his face was an emotionless mask. "Yes, thank you Bella." Jacobo braced for another bout of the curse. He wasn't allowed to call Bellatrix, Mother, if he did it was a one way ticket to the next world. Bellatrix had promised him that, and Bellatrix for all her faults, never broke her promises. Jacobo felt his body curl up and and become defensive. Awaiting the resumption of the curse, he would be lucky to get away without another round. A set of foot steps heralded a possible saving from another bout of torture.

"Bella," Rudolphus snapped angrily as he approached his wife and son. "Leave the boy alone. He has training now." Rudolphus reached down and grabbed Jacobo by the back of his shirt. He dragged him upwards and set him non too gently on his feet. "Go to the training room. You've had enough play time today." Jacobo started to move away, he knew he was damn lucky to escape his fathers own cruciatis cursing. As Rudolphus met his wife's eyes, Jacobo fled, not waiting to see what his parents eecided to occupy their rime with. Rudolphus' piercing blue eyes cutting into Bellatrix's own dark ones viciously. He stalked over to her, pinning her against the wall. He leaned in and whispered to her, and Bellatrix laughed madly.

Jacobo entered the ball room, which had been converted into a training room. He spent most of his time here, the polished floors marked from numerous curses and hexes that had been slung his way when he wasn't paying attention or wasn't doing well enough for his trainer's liking. The walls were dark green and silver, an obvious homage to Salazar Slytherin. While the flooring was dark hard wood, highly polished and slippery. There were practice targets hung from the ceiling and the walls, they were movable and provided Jacobo with the majority of his practice preparation. Preparation for what, Jacobo wasn't certain, but then he wasn't really interested, it would mean more than one _crucio_ if he did ask.

Jacobo crouched down in the middle of the floor, a large circle was drawn around him in black paint. This was the starting position, it was like this that hewhat's to wait for his father or Uncle's. If he didn't, the consequences were usually painful. Rudolphus entered behind him and walked up to the sword rack. Taking down two practice blades, Rudolphus walked over to his young protégé.

"Get up, boy." Rudolphus snapped. Holding out a blade to Jacobo, Rudolphus took a defensive stance. "Take the blade, boy, now, _en garde_!"

Rudolphus moved swiftly, bringing his blade down in a thrust aimed at Jacobo's chest. Jacobo danced sideways, immediately on the defensive. He raised his blade and parried the thrust, batting it away with a clang. The man and boy went through the different stances and Rudolphus guided his charge into a proper attack. Rudolphus would never admit it, but he honestly enjoyed teaching the little brat how to duel with a blade. He'd loved sword work for as long as he'd been alive, it was a great way to work out anger, frustration and allowed him to put his muscles to work. Rudolphus parried a weak thrust and disarmed the boy swiftly. Jacobo leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding Rudolphus' sword. Scrambling along the floor, Jacobo scurried after his sword wherein lay innocently against the south facing wall.

Rudolphus felt a moments pride as he watched his son scramble to his sword. The boy ran and snatched the blade up, and then dodged Rudolphus' lunge. Rudolphus knew immediately that he'd overextended. He felt Jacobo's blade his his chest, threatening to slide between his ribs and hunt for his heart. Rudolphus grinned sadistically, the boy had done well. Turning slowly, he looked into the boys eyes, the familiar chill that occurred when he looked into their fearful and cold depths, ran up and down his spine.

"Well done," Rudolphus said, his blue eyes coldly boring into Jacobo's. Jacobo smiled tightly before his face slipped back into his emotionless mask. "But you failed to follow through with your lunge, you pulled back at the last moment."

Javobo sneered angrily, did his father really think he was an idiot? He knew he had to follow through with ever threat!

"Hardly, you bleed Rue." Jacobo sneered, his face twisting into an ugly expression of contempt. Rudolphus felt vaguely proud of the expression, it reminded him of Bellatrix's one where she expressed her complete and utter contempt for the person she was talking to. It was also slight scary.

Rudolphus blinked and looked down, his white silk shirt had red flowering out and along his side. "Interesting," Rudolphus murmured, falling to his knees, in a moment of weakness, his blue eyes meeting his sons eyes. "I'm proud of you."

Jacobo bared his teeth in a nasty grin. He pulled off his shirt and did the same for his father. He staunched the blood that flowed from the gash. It really wouldn't do to kill his father, his mother might protest against it. Might, he wasn't really sure, but really, better safe than sorry. Rudolphus watched his son work, the boy was intent on his task. Why he was doing this was beyond him, Rabastan had taught the boy to not do anything without a price. To trust no one. Not even his family.

"Why?" Rudolphus asked curiously.

Jacobo eyed the man in front of him, the blue eyes were curious and wary. "Life debt," Jacobo shrugged, while Rudolphus' face fell into lines of chagrin. Of course, by saving his life, he now owed the brat a life debt. Rudolphus groaned, impressed.

"Well done." Rudolphus acknowledged. His eyes reevaluating his son, impressed but wary. The issue with teaching a child no loyalty to no one but himself, you really do have to be careful when it came to your life in the balance. Rudolphus knew that if saving his life hadn't benefited Jacobo, Jacobo certainly wouldn't have saved it. Rudolphus felt incredibly proud of his boy.

The door opened and Rabastan walked in, his lean form dressed in wizard robes of midnight blue. His piercing blue eyes spotted his brother and the boy kneeling on the floor. Rudolphus was pasty white while the boys face was coldly calculating and focused. Rabastan crossed the hardwood floor to the duo, his face creased into questioning lines.

"You finally get one over him, Jac?" Rabastan asked curiously. He watched silently as the boy filched Rudolphus' wand from his pocket and seal the wound over with a silent jab. Interesting idea, Rabastan thought calmly, almost ingenious. Rudolphus now owed the child a life debt, Bellatrix would not be pleased. One the other hand, she may well be pleased by the boys ruthlessness.

Rudolphus looked up at his younger brother, "That he did." Rudolphus looked down at the boy in a rare fit of pride. Rabastan smirked completely amused. Clearly the near death experience and Jacobo's actions afterwards had irrevocably warmed his brother to the child. It was about time, Rabastan thought wryly.

"Bast," Jacobo looked up, his hands bloody and sticky. "Check the healing." Jacobo hadn't asked, Rabastan noted proudly, instead he'd commanded. He would do well, even Rudolphus looked upon the boy approvingly.

Casting a diagnostic spell over the child, Rabastan was forced to admit that the healing done, while incomplete, was better than anything he personally could have done. "You did well, Jac." Rabastan admitted, eyeing the boy.

Jacobo smirked, pleased with himself. He stood, using Rudolphus' wand to clean his hands, Jacobo eyed the stain of blood on the silk shirt. The contrast of red on white was eerily beautiful. The sight of the blood gushing from the wound had given the boy a head rush. Jacobo wanted more of it, _needed_ more of it. He now understood his mothers love of causing pain, of hurting people. While he personally didn't like being tortured, the head rush of being near someone in pain, of being near the hot scent of blood was tantalizing beautiful.

Jacobo resolved from then to learn everything about causing pain. The rush was incredible, the feeling of power, of confidence of control was exhilarating. The sight of blood pumping from an open wound was intoxicating and the heavy metallic scent of it was delicious. Jacobo tipped his head back, feeling something stirring within himself, a darkness. He welcomed it gladly, letting the feeling swamp him.

Hissing out a breath, Jacobo rolled his shoulders, feeling much older than his five years. He picked up his blade and stowed it on the weapons rack and left the room. He felt the need to get out, to move. He left Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange wondering what had just happened. Although they could certainly guess, that glint, that _feral_ look in his eyes was fairly telling. Bellatrix had the same look in her own. The stirring of _darkness_, of _madness_, of _bloodlust_.

The two brothers had recognized the look of blood lust that had transformed the boys face into an expression of unholy delight. The normally expressionless face had been lit up in ecstasy. It was interesting to see a five year old become a sadistic monster. While Rudolphus was indifferent, he really did hurt quite a bit, Rabastan decided to follow the boy, it would be interesting to see where this would lead. Rabastan exited the grand room that acted as the training room. He followed the boy through the twisting corridors, the colouring of the dark walls adding to the miserable atmosphere. Cobwebs hung thickly in the corners and the paint was chipped and befouled by blood and human bodily fluids. It added an entirely merciless air to the corridors. Jacobo headed outside and Rabastan followed him.

As Jacobo exited the manor, the sun beat down from the sky warming up the air with its golden light. The grass waved in the slight breeze, it's overlong strands bending over in homage to the clear day. Jacobo smiled coldly as he walked outside, Rudolphus' wand held loosely in his fingers. A wand he may well have deliberately forgotten to return to his father, not that he'd admit such a thing.

Rabastan followed him, his dark blue robes a blight upon the clear, bright landscape. Jacobo tugged at his trousers, settling them more comfortably against his legs and bottom. His chest was bare still, his shirt was blood soaked and left in a bundle on the floor in the training room. Scars decorated his pale body, his shoulder blades stuck out like miniature wings from his back, emphasizing his skinniness. Jacobo raised the wand and brought it slashing down, bright lights flooded from its tip. Swirling around, Jacobo moved through the different forms, flowing from one stance to the next all the while shooting dark spells and curses from the wand.

Rabastan watched the boy flow from one stance to the next, his movements darkly beautiful. His training with Bellatrix had clearly payed off, not that Bellatrix would admit such a thing. His movements were like liquid, they had no fault and flowed like water over rock. Jacobo's right arm snapped out with clean sharpness, sending a blasting curse into the bushes. The boy's face was wildly and cruelly happy, his eyes alight with euphoric insanity. Rabastan observed the boy send a weak cruciatis curse at a bird, its screams lighting up the otherwise beautiful day. Stepping forward, Rabastan drew his own wand, matching the boy's movements, Rabastan and Jacobo moved in deadly synchronization, sliding from one form to another, sending out deadly curses in beautiful but lethal coordination with each other.

Jacobo felt oddly calm, the rush from using the dark magic flooding his veins. He felt crazed and happy, as a result his spells became faster, Rudolphus' wand close to burning up from the sheer amount of power that was running through its core. Eventually Jacobo sank to his knees, his head falling forward and his too long hair shielding his face like a curtain. Rabastan dropped a hand to the boy's shoulder, squeezing it gently in approval before bending down and plucking Rudolphus' wand from the boys numb grip. Rabastan then walked away, leaving the boy huddled in the field, the grass and trees smoking from the curses that had been hurled at them. The ground scorched from the magical blasts. Jacobo rolled his shoulders, allowing the muscles in his arms and back to release their tension. After a half hour of relaxation, Jacobo staggered to his feet, the expected magical exhaustion sweeping over him like a wave. He carded his hand through his hair, clearing it from his eyes, annoyed at the knots he found there, he dragged his finger through the thin strands roughly.

XXX

Bellatrix stood beside Alecto Carrow in the kitchen. They'd both just seen an amazing display of magical prowess, and while it was to be expected from Rabastan, it was interesting that a five year old boy could do the same level as a fully trained Death Eater. Bellatrix eyed the boy as he staggered to his feet and then began to stretch like she'd shown him. He was wiry and lean for his age as well as being tall and confident.

Despite her best interests, Bellatrix felt a moments admiration for the man the boy, _her son_, would become. He would be incredibly powerful, Peter had told them, but no one had truly believed him. Well, except for Rabastan, but no one understood Bast. And they had been proved right, Bellatrix cursed her own idiocy and shortsightedness. Of course a two year old would barely show any magical knowledge, but it couldn't be clearer that the boy was powerful now. At only five years of age. Rabastan had told her time and time again that the boy would be, of course Rabastan was powerful himself and had more knowledge than most, but he never sought leadership, he hung back on the sidelines, holding his cards close to his chest.

And now Jacobo, the boy she'd mistreated simply because she thought it was a waste of time to teach the brat, had shown more magical potential than anyone else she knew of at his age. Bellatrix frowned, while the boy had no magical outbursts or accidents to her knowledge, Bellatrix knew there had to be a reason for that. Could the reason for that be because he had so much magical control already?

Bellatrix let a small smile grace her full lips, there really was only one way to find out. Bellatrix began to plan way to step up the boys training, he would be ready for the Dark Lord when he rose again. Jacobo, not her namby pamby nephew, Draco, would be the Dark Lord's heir. She would make sure of that.


End file.
